Daydream Believer and a Homecoming Queen
by BehrBeMine
Summary: Lana and Clark may be over, but Lana just can't say goodbye.


Title: Daydream Believer and a Homecoming Queen  
Author: BehrBeMine  
Feedback: I am intimidated by this fandom, as I do not often write in it. This is only my second 'Smallville' story. I tried... What can I say? I hope you like it.  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue, I'll cry. ;p  
Summary: Lana and Clark may be over, but Lana just can't say goodbye.  
Rating: G  
Author's Note: Dedicated to my mother.

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My valentine is lost to me now. Lightning zigzagged through our relationship and split it in two separate halves. I stand alone now, as does he, on opposite sides of the spectrum. We are reduced once again to being less than friends, and certainly less than the shining couple we got the chance to be for such a short time. Will this be the end? Is this it? Is he now lost to me forever? I wonder.

My valentine has dark hair that he keeps consistently at the same length. He has eyes that feel as though they can tear right into me and see my bone structure, my veins, my heart that beats for him. His intense stares mystify me and sometimes I ask, curious, what is so fascinating that he should stare in such a way, with such concentration, seeming to be viewing something of importance when all I can see are plain walls and shut doors.

My valentine has perfect teeth. Perfect, that is, to me. The way they're positioned is undeniably cute, and oh, how they shimmer as he flashes that candid Kent charming smile. The white of his teeth glistens, seeming fake in its beauty and its perfection. Sometimes he seems out of this world.

My valentine has secrets, as do we all. He has a brick wall and metal jail bars guarding the entrance to his inner thoughts, his deep-seated soul. No matter how much I push, how much I try, those secrets stay put, and he reveals nothing but an uncomfortable stare back at me as I try so hard to figure him out. He is stubborn, keeping things from me that as his one true love, I should have a front seat pass to know. I want so badly to know. To know him. Better than anyone else.

Sometimes I feel that I do. But then I realize I'm kidding myself.

My valentine's ex-best friend kissed me. He kissed me, on the night when someone died. Surely more than someone. People die all over the world at every second. I seem to escape death more narrowly and more often than those who are less lucky. Somehow, there's always a hero. A hero there to save me. Like having my own personal Spider-Man, or one of those random superheroes from comic books.

His ex-best friend is Lex. He was drunk on that night when he placed his lips to mine. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, could see lust in his eyes that I figured was brought about by the liquor he had consumed. He absolutely reeked of alcohol, and defeat, and... determination. Sometimes it seems that Lex wants me for his very own, but I would never become someone to belong to him. Not when there are people like Clark in my life, people who pull me up when I'm down and inquire after my safety as soon as it's in jeopardy. Sure, Lex cares, but in his own way. Not the way of my valentine.

My valentine owns a farm. He and his mother run it single-handedly. More often these days, I can find him outside, tending to animals, fixing machinery. Working. Perhaps by working he erases the pain of what has befallen him. Perhaps by working, he manages to survive.

No longer does he simply sit and stare into his telescope up in his fortress of solitude. He doesn't have the time anymore; he doesn't have the heart. He is not the same person he used to be. He has changed, grown up. He's had to, in order to survive.

My valentine's father was buried in the snow. Like in an avalanche, except he was already dead and gone. Buried in the very snow that covers my own father. I wonder at times if Clark and I will ever talk to our fathers together, and heal each other through experiencing the same pain.

My valentine found me in a graveyard on a cold autumn night while I was talking to headstones. He stood in front of a statue with wings. Sometimes I wonder if he could fly... Maybe then he could find and reach our lost love ones.

There's nothing more excruciating than losing a parent, adopted parent or not.

My valentine was adopted the year my parents died. He doesn't like to talk about it. He doesn't like to talk about a lot of things. That was our demise. More than once.

My valentine will last through the decades and the break-ups. Whether we ever stay together or not, we will always be connected. I've never truly believed in the idea of soulmates, but if they do in fact exist... I think he would be mine. If only we could overcome these barriers, these obstacles, and become a union without unshared, held back information. If only he would open up to me, show me his true heart. I will love him forever. It's hard to say if he knows that, or if he would believe it.

But it's true. It's true. As I think back on Clark's many faces and phases throughout the years, a kaleidoscope invades my vision and presents a montage before my closed eyes. All of the times he looked at me with such longing, or such fear. Those things I will remember for always, because he will always, always be my valentine.

- -  
end


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